Unhinged

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “Where are we?” she asked a second later, glancing around at the strange hall they were in.

  The floor was made of the same shiny black marble, but other than that, this was a different part of the castle. She twisted in a circle, finding that it had probably been made with the purpose of being a ballroom. The ceiling above curved towards the center, at least forty feet high.

  There was little to no furniture, just a single carved bench over to the right under one of the floor to ceiling windows. The whole place had smelled like it’d been left unused, almost like an attic, though there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen.

  The direness of the all black room was lessened by the ten windows. Each one was roughly five feet from the others, and wide enough to fit three grown men standing shoulder to shoulder. There were also two opened large double doors directly across from her.

  The opening led to what she thought might be a twenty foot long balcony. It curved around in a half circle, with a railing high enough that it would come up to her chest. In the distance there was a body of water a deep navy color, and twists of orange and dark purple clumped to the left and right of it. The distinct smell of fall wafted in, of moss and dying leaves.

  “Are those trees?” she asked incredulously.

  “Of a sort.”

  She spun around, eyes instantly landing on Hadrian.

  He stood in another doorway all the way across the room, arms casually at his side. He’d traded his school attire for a silky black dress shirt with the top three buttons undone, and white skinny jeans tucked into leather boots.

  She realized uncomfortably that he was also inspecting her. Suddenly her black jeans and cerulean blue t-shirt seemed unimpressive. Not that she’d dressed to impress. Or even cared if he found her that way.

  “You may go, Ferryman,” Hadrian said then, and it took her a moment to figure out he was talking to Ferris. His eyes never left hers.

  She barely registered Ferris dipping into a bow before vanishing the same way they’d come. Less than a blink later and they were alone, standing some twenty feet apart in an all but empty room. A breeze blew in through the doors at her back and she shivered, her move seemingly breaking the spell because he blinked and headed towards her.

  He crossed over silently, but he didn’t stop once he’d reached her, instead continuing past to the open doors.

  She let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and turned to keep him in her sights. When he sent a smirk over his shoulder, she stiffened and narrowed her eyes.

  She followed him, stopping in the center of the balcony. Above, the sky stretched on seemingly forever, an odd mixture of pastel orange and pink. There weren’t any clouds, but seeing as how this wasn’t really the sky, that made sense.

  Hadrian was propped up against the black railing that encircled the whole balcony. He was watching her knowingly, one corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

  “Not what you expected?” he asked in an easy tone. He motioned her closer, waiting until she did as commanded and was standing next to him, overlooking the railing.

  Below there was a beach, the sand the color of obsidian. The dark blue water lapped at the shore some ways away, the sound lulling and inviting. She noted that the air lacked the hint of salt like at a normal beach, as well as the sound of seagulls calling to one another. Despite the moving water and the slight breezes that passed, everything was still.

  “I didn’t think there’d be much of anything,” she admitted. “Especially not trees.” She wondered what they’d feel like. Would it have the same texture as bark? Would the leaves be slick and waxy?

  “There’s more to the Underworld than you think,” Hadrian told her with a soft chuckle. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Which reminded her of earlier.

  “What were you doing at my school today?” she demanded.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I already answered that question.”

  “No you didn’t. You made up some story.”

  “I said I was around,” he corrected. “And I was.”

  “Do you make it a habit of being…up there?” She pointed a single finger towards the sky for lack of a better option. She had no clue if they were even actually underground.

  He lifted a dark brow. “I can be anywhere I’d like. The benefit of being a god. You seem to think I need your permission to be in your world.”

  “Not my world,” she said, “the planet is free reign. But my school? Can you say invasion of privacy? That wasn’t our deal.”

  “That wasn’t not our deal either,” he pointed out. “It’s a little late for negotiations, Spencer. You never asked that I stay away. Besides, I was returning the favor. I only think it fair.”

  “Favor?” she frowned.

  “You show up in my world, I show up in yours.”

  “So, then we’re even.”

  “No.”

  “Huh?”

  He grinned down at her. “There’s that cat again.”

  “What do you mean we’re not even?” She’d leave that other comment alone for now. “I only came here once without asking.”

  “I fail to see the connection.”

  “No you don’t! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t just walk into my school whenever you feel like it. People are going to start noticing the new guy coming and going, for one. Secondly, like I already stated, it’s an invasion of privacy.”

  During her indignant speech, he’d moved without her noticing. It became shockingly clear now, and she had to tilt her head all the way back in order to maintain eye contact.

  She went to step away and emitted a gasp when he twisted their positions, easily backing her up against the railing.

  He placed a hand on either side, trapping her in with his arms and brought his face down to hers. No part of him was touching her, but she felt the heat as if he were.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to invade your privacy?” he whispered, his voice so sweet she thought for sure she’d just gotten a cavity hearing it. “As for that other thing, it’s easily solvable. If I attend on a regular basis, no one will notice a thing.”

  Her frown deepened. What other thing? She couldn’t remember what they were talking about before he’d maneuvered them into this position. Something about…school. Her eyes widened.

  “You can’t seriously—”

  “I’m deadly serious.” His choice of words didn’t go unnoticed.

  Spencer tried to decipher what she saw in his eyes, but couldn’t. They were such a dark blue now they were basically black, and in them she could see herself looking back.

  Her cheeks had flushed a bright red and her mouth was slightly open. She snapped it shut and forced herself to calm down. It had been months since she’d felt the weight of someone this close to her, especially a male someone. That had to be the reason she was flustered, because it reminded of her Micah.

  “Would you like to take a closer look?” he asked her, still using that same sultry tone.

  “What?”

  He jutted out his chin, indicating something behind her. She was too unnerved with his nearness to trust looking away from him. Seeming to understand this, he took a deliberate step back.

  “Come, Spencer,” he started backwards towards a set of stairs at the left that she would swear hadn’t been there a moment ago, “I’ll show you.”

  Chapter 9:

  The sand squished beneath her feet; loose by the stairs, but becoming more packed the closer they got to the water. There was a thin white fog that passed over the smooth surface of blue liquid, thickening so that she couldn’t tell what was beyond twenty or so feet across it.

  They walked at an easy pace, the low hush luring her into a sense of relaxation she knew she shouldn’t be feeling.

  He’d placed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, eyes scanning ahead of them. His expression was peaceful, yet guarded, as if there was something about the situation that
he didn’t want to share with her.

  She took the time to inspect the place further, interested in the cropping of trees to her left and far to the right, almost far enough she couldn’t make them out fully. The beach itself was vast, practically never ending, and the black sand sparkled like glitter beneath her feet. She wondered if it would be hot, like on a normal beach, but didn’t dare reach down to find out.

  They came to the edge of the water, and he stopped them about five feet or so away. Acting on impulse, she went to move forward, jerking back when he tugged on her arm.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned. “This is the river Lethe.”

  It sounded familiar, but when she tried to figure out why, the memory fled to the far corners of her mind, completely out of reach.

  “It’s the river of Oblivion. If you touch it, you’ll forget.”

  “Forget what?” She took a few steps back.

  “Anything,” his intense gaze trapped her like it had so many times before. “Everything. It depends on how long you stay in. If you drink it, it’ll be like you’re wiped clean. Everything that you were will be gone. This is where souls who wish to be reborn come. They’re allowed to drink the water so that their old lives won’t burden them in the new one.”

  “I wasn’t aware rebirth was a part of Greek myth,” she admitted.

  “Only those who are worthy are given the option. Mostly the offer is accepted by those who would otherwise reside in the Asphodel Meadows. That’s something the Greeks got wrong. Most of them believed only those honored enough to make it into the Elysian Fields were given the choice. I’ve always thought it strange, that they’d rather believe a person was only given a choice if they were the best of the best.

  “The souls who reside in the Asphodel Meadows aren’t renowned heroes; you won’t read their names in any history books. But they’re good, honorable people. I give them the option of trying again, of becoming something more than what they were. Or less, depending upon. You can never tell what someone is going to do. Free will, and all that.”

  To have everything about her stripped away? To forget. Why would anyone want that? She felt lost enough not knowing who she was without Micah, but to really one hundred percent not be her? That was terrifying.

  “I wouldn’t like that,” she said, realizing a second too late that it had been out loud. When she glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, he was watching her.

  “You wouldn’t know you’d forgotten, Spencer,” he told her. “That’s sort of the point.”

  “Still.” She folded her arms over her chest and shifted her feet. “What about across? If this is a river, it can’t be too far to the other side, can it?”

  Hadrian seemed to stall for a moment, as if unsure of something, before lifting his right hand and waving it towards the water. The fog began to clear, dissipating as if a large gust of wind had blown by.

  Now that she had a clear view she could see them, dozens of people—souls—in a vast sea of green. The grass over there seemed so bright it was almost neon, and there were hills of it rolling across an expanse of miles. Some of the souls were sitting by the edge of the river, careful not to touch, while others stood off in groups laughing and talking.

  “Why can’t I hear them?” she asked, focusing all her attention on a girl who couldn’t be older than her by more than a year. The girl threw her head back and laughed, but as far as Spencer could tell no sound came out.

  “That’s Elysium,” there was a wistful hint to his voice. “Better known as the Elysian Fields. It sits across the river Lethe. Only those who’ve proved themselves more than worthy throughout their lifetimes are allowed entrance there; even their conversations are protected from outsiders. Great heroes such as Achilles dwell there.”

  “I read somewhere that it was reserved mostly for those who had a blood connection to the gods,” she said.

  “At one point it did,” he agreed. “But not for a very long time. The virtuous, the selfless, those with integrity, true integrity, end up here. This was not to be the resting place of Micah St. James, if that’s what you were wondering.”

  She had been wondering, and it irked her that he’d so easily figured that out.

  “Why not?”

  “The Asphodel Meadows are more suited to him,” Hadrian said matter-of-factly. “It’s for those who did not achieve greatness in their lifetimes, who lived, but didn’t live notoriously. Micah lived a good life, but he wasn’t a strong presence in the world. He didn’t affect very much.”

  “He affected me,” she snapped.

  “There’s that.” He was giving her that half smile again. “But in a hundred years you will be gone, and no one on earth will remember his name.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know the names of half the people in there,” she counted, pointing across the river and drawing his attention to the souls once more.

  She saw a look of intense concentration cross over his face when he turned back to Elysium. She glanced over her shoulders back towards his castle, taking note of the structure of the huge building.

  “You put that balcony there on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked. “So you could watch them?”

  For a second it didn’t seem like he was going to respond, but then he gave a shrug and began walking along the shoreline away from her. “Come on.”

  “I’m not a dog you know,” she said even as she fell into step next to him, making sure to stand on the side of him that wasn’t closest to the water. “You can’t just snap your fingers and summon me.”

  He chuckled. “And yet here you are.”

  “In my defense, where the heck else am I supposed to go? I don’t exactly know my way around. This is not a hot vacation destination.” She groaned when that only made him laugh harder. “Forget the hot part of that and it makes sense.”

  “Sure, in your little mortal mind.”

  “Hey!”

  “Maybe tomorrow, if you’re nice, I’ll take you to one of the other rivers,” he told her. “They’re all very beautiful.”

  “You mean like the people in Elysium?” At his glare, she held up her hands. “Fine, whatever. Enough talk about the fact you’re a Peeping Tom. Though, technically we can add stalker to the list after you showed up at my school today. You’re just on a roll.”

  “Funny,” his voice dropped an octave, “I was about to say that to the girl currently insulting the God of the Dead.”

  Ok. Point him.

  “Half the time you ask for it,” she went on despite her better judgment. Her entire body stiffened when he stepped so close she could feel his breath fanning her left cheek. She forced herself to keep looking ahead.

  “Would you like that, Spencer?” His mouth was right by her ear now. “If I asked for it?”

  She was pretty sure they were no longer talking about insults. He shifted so close that her shoulder brushed against the center of his chest and she clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides. She was torn between wanting to shove him away and wanting to see how this was all going to play out.

  Which made just about as much sense to her as orange and black trees.

  It had to be because of the spiel he’d just given about giving souls second chances. For a moment there he hadn’t seemed like the God of the Dead. Then he’d gone and ruined it with that comment about Micah.

  She stepped away from him, and stormed off down the beach. He caught up with her easily enough, but she ignored him. The castle disappeared at their backs, and now they were flanked with the river on one side and a forest of trees on the other.

  “If you’re already mad at me, this is going to be a long six months,” he said then, destroying the silence.

  “Like you care if I’m not.” His rich laugh made her tighten her jaw.

  “I never said I’d care.”

  “Just another observation, huh?”

  “Naturally.” He eyed her up and down. “Though if you want to yell, ‘observe this’ and walk off sashaying yo
ur hips again I won’t be opposed.”

  She came to an abrupt halt, mouth gaping open. “I did nothing of the sort!”

  “From where I was sitting you did,” he said. “Gotta admit, Spence, you’ve got a great—”

  His pointed look towards her butt told her all she needed to know and she stopped him. “Cut it out. You’re the God of the Underworld; you’re supposed to be scary, not annoying!”

  When his blue eyes narrowed into thin slits, she knew she’d made a mistake. Her mom loved to say that her mouth was going to get her into trouble, looked like she’d really done it now.

  He stalked her like she was prey, and instead of waiting in place like the past couple of times she backed away with each step he took forward. She got her answer about the tree bark when she felt one press against her, putting an end to her futile attempts at escape.

  It was coarse scrapping at her palms as she gripped it. The vibrant orange leaves crinkled above, the breeze kicking up more of that fall scent, mixed in with a heady smoky smell that reminded her of barbeques.

  “Hadrian…”

  He moved close enough that the tips of his boots were touching hers, but other than that he maintained his distance, no other part of him touching her. His eyes were most definitely black now, not a single hint of blue left in them.

  “I have my own life you know,” he told her in a voice thick with anger. “But like all humans you think otherwise. You barge in here unannounced, demanding favors of me and expect me to just drop everything. Why? Because you’re mortal? Do you think you’re better, Spencer? Superior because you live among flowers and sunlight, while I’m down here?”

  “No!” She shook her head. “No, of course not!”

  “You are selfish and self-centered. You think of no one but yourself, willingly enclosing yourself in a tomb you call your bedroom. Cutting everyone else off. Refusing to move on. To adapt. Tell me, if you died tomorrow, would you look back on your life and feel a sense of accomplishment? Would you feel like you’d been a good friend? A good daughter?”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she kept her mouth shut. When he continued to glare down at her, she shivered.